There Ain’t One You Can Beat – A Creepypasta Tale From 2020TOO

…The beads of sweat pour down his brow, as he takes several quick and laboured breaths in. He grips the controls with his throbbing hands, and grimaces once again. “You won’t beat me this time,” he hisses as he nods his head and presses the retry button once again.

The world before his fades to nothingness, and then in beyond the edges of his ear lobes, a small beat begins to make itself know, quickly accompanied by the acoustic harmonics of an electric guitar.

The room lights up, and a sea of coloured boxes flood the word before him before they start fly at him in time with the music.

He swipes wildly at the blocks with coloured bats that he holds tightly in each hand, tearing them in half with precision accuracy. The flow picks up pace, and he starts tapping his foot in rhythmic synchronicity. “W-W-Where are you, y-you p-piece of shit,” he mumbles as his eyes glide away from the playing field, and out into the three-D world beyond. With a petrified breath, he catches a glimpse of a figure moving just on the outskirts of the world, leaping from pylon, to pylon, making its way towards him. He sucks in another breath as he smiles wryly. “Let the games being,” he snarls as he throws the bats to the side, and leaps forward across the ravine, toward the figure…

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